


The Hands That Hold My Heart

by CrimsonFirebreeze



Series: Hiddles Diddles [16]
Category: Tom Hiddleston - Fandom
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-17
Updated: 2012-08-17
Packaged: 2017-11-22 13:13:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,794
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/610206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrimsonFirebreeze/pseuds/CrimsonFirebreeze
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam’s been wearing a promise ring that she dug out of her jewelry box since Tom made their relationship official. After a lot of thought on his part, he decides it’s time for a change.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Hands That Hold My Heart

**Author's Note:**

> I said his hair is “strawberry-colored” mostly because HE says he’s naturally blonde, yet he appears VERY ginger lately. So I settled for halfway to be fair.
> 
> This story is also known as "Claddagh"
> 
> Also on my Tumblr and on THFrustration

”Are you still wearing that thing,” asked Tom, catching her hand in his and examining the ring on her finger. It was a claddagh her mother had given her as a teenager. It was a pretty thing, a little more flashy than a traditional one, the heart studded with little black stones, some of which had gone missing long ago.

“Why wouldn’t I be wearing it,” Sam asked him a little more defensively than she meant to. She had dug the thing out and slipped it onto her right hand, the heart pointed inwards to signify she was in a relationship when he’d made it clear that he wanted to keep her around.

“Well for starters,” he said, working it off her finger with some effort and holding it up “It’s not even round anymore.”

“It hasn’t been round since I was sixteen.”

Indeed the ring had warped itself into an oval shape that made it difficult to wear. She stared at the painful indent on her finger where the ring had been as Tom kissed it, frowning slightly.

“Second, your mother gave it to you.”

“She knew I wanted one. I’m very Irish pride over here.”

“Yes, I know,” he chuckled. “And it’s lovely that you are proud of your heritage. But I worry that it’s nothing more than a painful reminder that you haven’t spoken to her in years rather than being the symbol you want it to be. And that tattoo is torture enough for you.”

Her eyes found his and they were filled with genuine concern. She offered a small smile that he didn’t return. Out of nervous habit she started running her thumb over the empty space on her finger where the ring had been and looked away, not really wanting to discuss her mother. Her eyes fell to the tattoo on her left wrist; a treble-clef that served as the ‘S’ in the word ‘Sissy’ that was scrawled in cursive over the underside of her wrist. The tail of the ‘Y’ created an open heart over the word. It was something she had gotten for her kid brother to prove a point if she ever saw him again. Tom’s hand covered the tattoo as she sighed, bringing her eyes back to his.

“Third,” he said, changing the subject back to the ring, much to her relief. “And this goes with my second point; I didn’t get it for you.”

“I’m sorry? I didn’t want to freak you out by saying I wanted to wear a ring for you? I didn’t know how you’d take to the idea of a promise ring of any kind.”

“And how did I take it?”

“A mix between how I hoped you would and how I thought you would.”

He raised his eyebrows at her, giving her an expectant look. She sighed and rolled her eyes.

“But,” she continued. “When you got used to the idea, you adored it.”

“Precisely. And finally,” he said softly, “I’m a little surprised that you didn’t get a new one when I took you to Dublin. I would have thought you’d want one from Ireland.”

“It would have been nice but I didn’t think about it, honestly. I was fine with this one.”

Tom was grinning and digging for something in his pocket. Sam watched him with a confused look and he merely kissed her cheek in response.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said softly. “But I made a rather bold assumption and took the liberty of borrowing one of your other rings for the purpose of sizing and purchasing you a proper Irish Claddagh.”

Tom took her hand in his and slid the new ring onto her finger. The band itself and hands were yellow gold. The heart and crown were white gold, a heart cut diamond nestled into the setting. It was much nicer than what she had been expecting and the beauty of it left her speechless.

“I know it’s not exactly the traditional one that you desired,” he continued, holding her hand in his. “But I thought of you when I saw this.”

“Please tell me that’s not a real diamond,” she implored. His silence only affirmed that it was. “Tom…”

“I know, I know,” he cut her off, silencing her with a long finger against her lips. “You hate it when I buy you expensive things and I understand why. But, this was… important to me.”

Sam stared at him seriously for a moment. “Alright, explain.”

“I think the ring more than speaks for itself,” he remarked.

She stared at him for a long moment before her eyes slid to he ring. The only reason she could think of that he’d invest in a diamond for her was the rather cliche idea that it was her birthstone, which seemed a silly reason to buy it for her. She kept staring at the ring, willing it to give her an answer when she noticed that it was facing the wrong way, outwards, and she knit her brows together, puzzling over why. She knew Tom was well-aware of how it was supposed to be worn and she couldnt imagine why he would…

And then it dawned on her. He’d put it on her left hand, something she’d hardly noticed since she’d always worn a ring where this one now sat for years before he’d come along. A ring felt natural there. Her breath caught in her throat as she stared at her hand, eyes wide and threatening to pop out of her skull. This wasn’t happening, was it? She rubbed her eyes quickly and stared at her hand again. Oh Yes, the ring was still there, the heart still pointing outwards. His name fell from her lips in a breathless whisper as she reached for him to steady herself. She was clutching his forearm as his hands closed over hers, the threat of her swooning becoming very real as he knelt in front of her.

“I know many things have been ruined for you when it comes to love and relationships,” he said slowly. “And I have done my very best to make up for mistakes that were not my own and for some that were. You’ve made it clear on several occasions how you feel about commitment in terms of matrimony and I understand completely.”

His eyes locked with hers and she knew she should be smiling, taking the edge off, giving him some tiny indication that she was flattered, but she couldn’t. All she could do was stare at him in slack-jawed shock. He licked his lips nervously, his pretty eyes searching hers.

“I can wait,” he continued. “As long as it takes until you’ll accept me so completely. But for now, please say yes?”

She was shocked to see fear register in his eyes. How he could ever think that she was capable of rejecting him, she didn’t know and the absurdity of it brought a smile to her lips finally. She dropped to her knees with a sigh and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, nuzzling softly into his neck.

“Silly man,” she said tenderly. “Of course I’ll say yes.”

She heard his sigh of relief as his arms encircled her tightly, crushing her to him.

“I have one condition,” she proclaimed, pulling back to give him a serious look.”Kadence is the flower girl.”

He laughed, “Anything you want, darling. I don’t care what it is, as long as you’ll marry me.”

“Even if it means letting Alex and Rex be in charge of any and all festivities?”

“Especially then.”

“Oh Thomas, darling, you have no idea what you just agreed to,” she laughed. He pulled her close again, those silvery eyes holding hers captive again.

“The rest of my life with you, dearest Samantha” he said tenderly, his fingers caressing her face. “The wedding can be at your beloved Renaissance Faire for all I care, as long as you’re my wife at the end of the day.”

She smiled, nuzzling him again, his facial hair tickling the corner of her mouth. She had no words to answer him and he seemed to understand, choosing then to capture her lips in a tender kiss. After a moment, the right words seem to form in her mind and she smiled.

“I love you,” she whispered against his mouth.

“And I you, Kitten,” he breathed, still holding her tightly against him. She ran her fingers through his strawberry colored hair and kissed him again, this time with passion.

“I assume you like it then,” he asked as they came up for air.

“It’s better than anything I ever imagined.”

“Says the girl who claims she never spared a thought for her dream wedding,” he laughed.

“Wedding no, ring yes.”

“Tell me, what did your dream ring look like?”

She looked at her hand on his shoulder, appreciating the way the ring caught the light, and smiled.

“You know, this pretty little gift is so perfect,” she said. “That I do believe I have forgotten what silly thing I dreamed up in my youth.”

Tom was beaming when he pulled her in for another kiss, his hand in her hair and his arm around her waist, holding her against him. He kissed the rest of her face, her neck, her shoulder, hugging her tightly.

“Thank you, Kitten,” he whispered into her shoulder.

“For what?”

“Being my lover, my friend, my companion and soon my wife.”

“Don’t thank me for that, sweetheart.”

“Then how shall I show you my gratitude?”

“You already do,” she said as she pulled back and found his eyes. “By loving me the way I am. Every last fucked up quirk and broken part of me.”

“And I shall never stop,” he said, his eyes holding that earth shattering sincerity that pierced her very soul, whilst bearing his own to her completely. She smiled tenderly, feeling no need to say anything else. He stood and moved over to his iPod on it’s dock and scrolled through it. After a minute, he seemed to find what he was looking for and the music came spilling out of the dock speaker as he turned to look at her.

“Billie Holiday,” she asked, taking the hand he offered her. He pulled her up and started to dance slowly with her.

“Of course,” he replied. “It is our song isn’t it?”

She smiled up at him, remembering a birthday and a first date that seemed so long ago. “I suppose.”

He pulled her even closer. “Sing to me?”

“I’ll be seeing you,” she sang softly into his ear, her smile widening as he nuzzled her, sighing contentedly. “In all the old, familiar places that this heart of mine embraces all day through…”


End file.
